


Rehabilitation

by orphan_account



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5030530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mabel and Dipper convince Stanley to let them keep Old Man Mcgucket. Stanley's against it. At first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rehabilitation

When the kids bring the hobo home with them, Stanley is adamant that he leave.

“Oh no,” Stanley says when the kids drag Old Man Mcgucket behind them, their eyes doing that puppy dog stare that Stanley  _will_ not cave into. “We’re not adopting him. You already got to keep the stinkin’ pig.”

“But Grunkle Stan,” Mabel pleads and her eyes are so wide and sparkly. Kid could persuade people to give her all their with money with eyes like those. “He lives in the dumpster and he’s poor and we should help him out. Let him stay  _please._ ”

“Yeah, Grunkle Stan.” Dipper says and Stan feels a little niggle in the back of his mind. Why the sudden charity? Mabel, he knows, probably just feels for the old kook. Dipper, though, doesn’t do anything without a reason. “We’ll feed him and wash him and make sure he doesn’t wander off.”

“He can sleep in Soos’ room!” Mabel says excitedly. “He can be the Mystery Shack’s’ mascot!” They both drop to their knees in front of him, hands clasped, chanting, “ _Please, please, please, please, please.”_

Stanley’s ready to put his foot down. He’s ready to kick out Mcgucket, no remorse, because let’s face it, the man’s crazy and there’s no telling what the old man will do - an image flashes across Stan’s mind of a giant Gideon robot and he shivers- but then the man himself speaks up.

“It’s alright lil’ fella. I don’t need no fancy lodgings, I got me my dump and my raccoon wife. I reckon that’s all a old codger like me needs.” Mcgucket says, hunched over his hands that wring together. He’s smiling, small but reassuring at the twins who look at him with such infantile sadness.

“Oh Mcgucket.” Mabel whispers solemnly and Stanley can feel his will eroding away like clumps of sand on a New Jersey beach.

“Fine.” Stanley says, “He can stay.”

Before the twins can cheer, Stanley raises one finger and points it at the twins. “ _But_  he’s gonna have to take a shower pronto and we’re gonna have to get him some new clothes.” 

Stanley grimaces at the thought of the amount of money he’ll have to spend on his new house guest. With the pig all he had to do was give it leftovers and it was happy. He knew the old man probably would’ve accepted less than that - heck he’s seen the man try and gnaw his way through a book more than once in his stay in Gravity Falls- but he didn’t quite think the kids would like him feeding their new friend stuff from the trash.

Mabel nods at his request and grabs Mcgucket’s hand, “C’mon Mcgucket! I’ll show you around the place.”

Dipper follows at a more sedate pace. Stanley covers his face with his hands.  _What did I just get myself into?_

“Ahem. Mr. Mysterious?”

Stanley turns, readjusting his glasses. The kids and Mcgucket are at the bottom of the stairs, Mcgucket staring at him with the bluest eyes he’s ever seen, and he’s been all over the States and then some. Funny, how did he not notice those blue eyes before?

“...Thank you kindly for hostin’ me. I know I ain’t the bee’s knees-” Mcgucket pauses to run his hands through his long beard, “but I’lll be on my best behavior. Promise.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stanley says, waving the man off. “Take a shower first and then we’ll talk.”

After that the kids led Fiddleford around the house and Stanley gets dinner ready. There’s not a lot in the fridge, he hasn’t had time to grocery shop, too busy going to the basement directly after the work days end to hurry up and finish the portal but there is some pies Soos’ Abuelita was kind enough to send and some leftover pancakes from today’s breakfast. Stanley grabs the pie and shuts the fridge with his hip, whistling to the microwave. There should be enough for all four of them. Probably.

“Kids dinner’s ready!” Stanley shouts thirty minutes later. He added some frozen corn dogs to the mix and, aware that his great niece and nephew are growing children, a carrot shaped like a flying saucer that’s been sitting in the museum part of the Mystery Shack for a few days. He washed it off.

There’s the sound of running footsteps down the stairs. Stanley turns to the doorway to find Mabel and Dipper whispering to each other and giggling. When they notice his attention on them they both stand straight and simultaneously sing-song, “Introducing, the new and improved Mr. Mcgucket.”

They do a little jazz hand number and stepping into the doorway is a much cleaner version of Old Man Mcgucket.

He’s clean shaven, that’s the first thing Stanley notices. No facial hair whatsoever and no bandaid either which is a shame because there’s a bunch of little nicks on his neck and chin that has to hurt. He looks different without the beard, more bare and a  _lot_  younger. 

The next thing he notices is that he’s wearing clothes stolen from the gift shop.

“Are those mine?” Stanley asks even though it’s obvious from the large emboldened  _Mystery Shack_  on the front of the shirt. Even though the shirt is standard sized it droops on Mcgucket’s lanky frame, revealing suntan lines in the form of overall straps. The Mystery shack doesn’t sell pants- hard to advertise your shack on a pair of pants- so Stanley only has to assume that the khaki pants buckled twice over Mcgucket’s thinner waist are his own.

“Well  _our_ clothes wouldn’t fit him.” Mabel says with a shrug.

Stanley takes his time observing the rest of his new house guest, enjoying the way the older man squirmed. Mcgucket had something on his eyes that could’ve resembled glasses if it weren’t for the fact that one of the lenses was missing and the other lense being a dark green. His head’s devoid of his usual hat, showcasing a bald head and liver spots. Stanley notices that his usual cast and bandages was also gone, again showing tan lines from what could have been years of wear. He was walking barefoot but if his feet stunk, Stanley couldn’t smell it.

“Not bad.” Stanley says. He still had a terrible hunch and didn’t look anything like an upstanding citizen would look like but at least he didn’t smell. “Now c’mon and let’s have some pie.”

The instant Stanley passed Old Man Mcgucket the pie though, it was like the man was possessed. Best behavior, Stanley’s butt. Mcgucket chewed with a vengeance, spewing pumpkin pie filling everywhere. Stanley, Mabel and Dipper stared in disgust as the old man stood on his chair and dug in like a dog, snarling and munching. The only one seemingly okay with this was Waddles who oinked and starting picking on anything that fell on the floor. Which with how Mcgucket ate, was a lot.

“That’s it.” Stanley says, starting to stand up.

“No wait!” Mabel’s hand shot out to stop her Grunkle. “He doesn’t know any better.”

Mabel grabs Fiddleford by his elbow and he stops just enough to look around.  Looking at the messy table he has the grace to look embarrassed, wiping his mouth with the back of his - _the Mystery Shack’s. That’s the Mystery Shack’s merchandise now ruined-_  sleeve.

“I am so sorry. I don’ right know what came over me- I- I- “ Old Man Mcgucket stuttered his eyes wide and his hands going out to stroke-  _his beard_ , Stanley realizes, but it’s not there- thin air. 

“It’s alright Mr. Mcgucket.” Dipper says, “Here,” He picks up his own apple pie and bites a piece out of it demonstratively. “Try eating it like this.”

“Yeah it’s easy.” Mabel says, taking a big bite out of her own slice. Chewing her way through the food she swallowed and then gestured to Mcgucket. “There. Now you try.”

Stanley watches as Old Man Mcgucket lifted his own half-destroyed pie to his lips. He opened his mouth wide revealing three lonesome teeth and a mouth full of gum and bit down. Nothing happened. Fiddleford bit down again, moving his jaw back and tugging almost like a dog with a chew toy. A bit of the apple filling squeezes out but the crust is unyielding.

“I think I see what’s the problem.” Stanley says with a sigh, idle reminders of when he first started losing his teeth and was too stubborn to get dentures flashing through his mind. Mcgucket eyes pops open from the squinted look he took on as he tried to wrestle with the pie with gum and teeth and he puts down the pie.

“Sorry.” Old Man Mcgucket says, not looking at any of them but at the messy plate in front of him. “I should go. Thank you for invitin’ me to dinner.” He goes to stand but Stanley’s already got a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down.

“You’re not going anywhere. I have some softer foods in the fridge.” Stanley says. He fishes out the pancakes from the fridge and turns to heat them up in the microwave.

“It’s okay Mcgucket.” Stanley hears Mabel say from behind him. Even though he’s facing the microwave Stanley could just imagine her, hand on Mcgucket’s bony shoulder, a small smile on her lips, revealing shiny metal braces.

“No it’s not. I made a right mess and I dirtied yer clothes.”

“Hey, I’m sure Grunkle Stan doesn’t mind. Do you Grunkle Stan?” Dipper calls out.

Stanley bites his tongue and says, “Nah, it’s fine. Dandy, even.” The microwave beeps and Stanley pulls out the fluffy pancakes and then makes sure to get a plastic knife and fork while he’s at it.

“Here.” He says, placing the pancakes in front of Mcgucket.

“Thank you.” Mcgucket says softly. He grabs the fork and knife and, after a mishap of cutting with the fork and forking with the knife, starts to cut his food and eat. He has to chew a lot and his pace is a lot slower than before but there’s also a lot less mess to deal with. When he’s done there’s still one and a half pancake left out of the three.

Mabel frowns, “Are you sure you don’t want anymore?” 

“I don’t reckon I could if I tried.” Mcgucket says, a pleased look on his face while rubbing his tummy. “I feel fuller than a tick on a hound dog.”

For some reason, that statement doesn’t sit quite right in Stanley’s stomach. While the kids and him continue eating, Stanley kept a close eye on Mcgucket. The old man was content to pet Waddles and answer questions Dipper had about what he remembered from some sort of  _before-_ to which Mcgucket would frown and say he didn’t remember much. After a few back and forths Mcgucket was yawning, his breath suspiciously minty fresh.

“C’mon old man, let me show you to your room.” Stanley says as he stands up, collecting plates “You two should be going to bed.” 

“Alright, good night Mr. Mcgucket!” Mabel says, hopping onto the floor.

“Good night Mr. Mcgucket, see you tomorrow.” Dipper says, yawning himself.

“Your yawn is so cute!”

“No it’s not Mabel.”

“It’s like a kitten!”

“I don’t sound like a kitten Mabel, stop saying that.”

“But you do!”

The twins bickering voices fade as they go up the stairs until they’re gone completely. Mcgucket stares at where they once stood, fondness gracing his face. “I don’t deserve those kids.”

“You and me both.”

Mcgucket jumps, turning to face the owner of the household. Shifting on his feet, Mcgucket stared at the imposing figure in front of him.

“Follow me.” Stanley says. Mcgucket rushes to follow, words falling from his lips in stilted bumps and overflowing waterfalls.

“Thank you again fer takin’ me in. I know I ain’t the best lookin’ tenant but I promise I’ll be as quiet as a mouse in mournin’ and I won’t cause no trouble. No trouble from me no siree.”

“Here’s your room.” Stanley says, interrupting what could’ve been an hour long spiel of apologies and thanks, opening the door to reveal the room. “My employee, Soos, uses it as a break room but it’ll do for now. I don’t have any extra mattresses so you’ll have to use the couch.” Stanley turns the light on, revealing a small room with shag carpeting, a lone closet and dresser, a couch, some movie posters and a desk table at the far side of the room.

“It’s perfect.” Mcgucket breathes, stepping up to the couch. He grins, jumping onto the couch cushions and landing with a soft oomph. “I reckon I haven’t had anythin’ this fancy since I got kicked out of that motel.”

“...Riiiight. Well the bathrooms that door over there.” Stanley points to the door at the left. “And here’s a toothbrush and toothpaste and a shirt to change into."

Mcgucket catches the items in his arms. Looking down at his shirt he finds his new shirt riddled with stains.

“Thank you again, Mr. Mysterious.” Mcgucket says, pulling his shirt up and over his torso, not letting go of the toothpaste or toothbrush, making it harder to pull off.

Stanley scoffs, “It’s Mr. Mystery.”

Having taken off his shirt, Mcgucket held out his hand, grinning triumphantly. “Well my name is Fiddleford Hadron Mcgucket. I jus’ learned that this afternoon. You can call me Fiddleford if ya want, or Mcgucket, or Old Man Mcgucket.” Mcgucket says. “The kids have taken ta callin’ me Mr. Mcgucket; that’s fine too.”

In the harsh new lights that Soos installed sometime in the last month, Stanley can see the exact lines of Fiddleford’s tan and the outward slope of his belly and the wispy hairs on his chest. He can also see the bones of his ribs, the frailty to his shoulders and the liver spots that litter his body like big freckles. Without even noticing, Stanley’s knuckles brush against Fiddleford’s ribs. hitting more bumps than smooth skin. It’s frightening how gaunt the man is and yet how his belly makes it hard to assume he’s starving. Yet Stanley most of all should know that a chubby stomach doesn’t mean a healthy, fulfilling diet. Idly he wondered if the older man was malnourished but then he had to be; he was constantly eating in the trash with a jaw that couldn’t handle solid food, he had to have a small stomach and a constant hunger.

Fiddleford takes a step back and only then does Stanley realize how close he is. His knuckles were brushing against the other man’s rib cage, how did he  _not_ notice?.

Stanley coughs, taking Fiddleford’s dirty shirt. “I’ll get one of the kids to wake you up for breakfast and then we’ll go shopping for food and things for ya.” He backs towards the door and continues, “There should be a blanket in the closet and a pillow- uh, goodnight.” And with that he leaves the room.

Later, deep in the basement, Stanley can’t get the images of his own experience in homelessness to leave him. Lonely cold nights with little to no food, a constant yearning in his stomach not quite fulfilled. Feelings of dizziness along with pangs every time he stood up too fast, too quick-

By the time he goes up to bed Stanley already has tomorrow all scheduled out.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I was gonna write this as a prologue to Another Day in the Summer Month but it didn't exactly fit in that canon so I gave up on it but then I thought, why the heck not?


End file.
